


Cliff

by Phytine (Taouret)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Albus Dumbledore, I love the idea of Blood Magic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-06 02:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17930759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taouret/pseuds/Phytine
Summary: Albus Dumbledore is having it both ways. He knows it is dangerous, but the balance is kept. Until it isn’t anymore.After finding some compromising letters – among other things, Travers locks him up in a cell. And he will use any means to stop Grindelwald. However, there is a tiny problem: Albus Dumbledore has his own demons and poking at them is really a bad idea…





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there !
> 
> I think it might be the first OS I ever made ? Like usually, I'm more a multi-chapter type of person but anyway...  
> English is not my mother tongue so sorry for the several mistakes you will find. I try to correct some of them but it's kind of difficult after re-reading the same text for the 30th times.  
> But here we go with an other Dark Albus story... because evil is cool, evil is sexy (just look at Vinda and you will know) and you have been totally okay with Albus running with Gellert to conquer the world... and bully Travers because this character is my favorite scapegoat.  
> And this OS is totally self-indulgent, be warned.
> 
> I hope you're going to like it and happy reading !

All his life, Albus Dumbledore had had the impression that he was walking along a cliff. And the void was drawing him, was tempting him.

The only thing that made him stay there was his conscience.

Not his happiness.

∞

Albus opened his eyes. He was so comfortable, he didn’t want to move. But he knew he had to. The sun was long gone behind the heavy curtains and he needed to come back to Hogwarts. He stretched out and tried to leave the bed when a sneaky arm curled around his waist. He let himself be drag back under the sheets but protested:

“I work tomorrow, and I have some papers to check. I can’t stay here.”

What he said was so mundane that it could have been considered as ridiculous. Not: “I need to go because you are the most wanted man in Europe and beyond”. Not: “I need to go because you are a murderer, a terrorist.”. If he wasn’t waiting eagerly for each of their meetings, he would have slapped himself. But he decided some time ago that when he was here, he needed to let go of his guilt.

“You could stay if you wanted…” Gellert mumbled in his back.

“I don’t like your violent ways and I don’t think your followers would be happy to see me.”

“I don’t care. I would not give them a choice. Stay, love. Stay with me. You belong by my side.”

“You say this because you don’t want me in your way. I know how you work.”

“That’s why you sent Newton Scamander against me in New York?”

“I didn’t send him against you.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why do you like him so much?” Gellert complained. “He is just some weird boy…”

Albus couldn’t help himself and chuckled:

“Are you really jealous of my student?”

“Your student?”

“My ex-student,” Albus corrected while rolling his eyes. “I’m not interested in him, you should know that.”

“And yet, you continue to go against me when we could be together.”

“We have already talk about this. I really need to go.”

Gellert finally let him go and he began to pick up his clothes. The dark wizard was looking at him from the bed, entirely nude, without any shame. But to be honest, it was not surprising: even if he would never have admitted it, he was kind of an exhibitionist when it came to Albus. The latter remembered how much the blond was awkward when he was 16. He, himself, was too. Oh, how things had changed.

“You would not stay with me, even to celebrate my latest break-out?”

“You would like me to reward you for breaking the law?”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

Albus stopped and looked at him. Why Gellert had to be Grindelwald? Couldn’t he just stay as Gellert all the time? No, he couldn’t. And maybe, if he was honest with himself, Albus wouldn’t have loved him as much if he had been tamed. Even if now, it was maybe a bit too much.

“Don’t you think it was glorious? I had so much fun, you have no idea.”

“I can only imagine. Making fools of themselves after holding you for six months…”

At that, Gellert fell silent and then said:

“They cut my follower’s tongue, you know? Poor boy… They thought it was me and hop! Isn’t it sad?”

“And you seduced him in order to sacrifice him at your place?”

“”seduce” is a big word for what I did: I just showed him the truth and then he knew where to put his trust. Are you jealous, Al’?”

“Why would I be jealous? I have no intention to have my tongue cut for your benefice.”

“It would be a shame by that. It’s a wicked thing, your tongue. I would miss it.”

“But you wouldn’t miss Mister Abernathy’s one?”

“How do you know his name?” Gellert asked, a little bit surprised.

“I have my ways.”

“I see. Maybe it’s time to have a clear-cut in my followers… What do you think about it, Al’?”

Albus didn’t answer to that. He really needed to go back to Hogwarts. He was afraid that the Ministry was keeping a close eye on him and if he was not careful, his situation wouldn’t be nice to look at. He knew having it both ways was dangerous. And hypocritical. But he couldn’t help himself and for now, the balance was kept.

He came near the bed and kissed his lover, who was still in bed. His followers could wait after all. Miss Rosier was ruling over them while they were together. Which was a cause of worries for the Muggles: she was worse than Grindelwald.

“Until next time. Don’t kill too many people while I’m away.”

“Stay with me. You could be my conscience. I would change my ways for you.”

“I can’t. And I’m pretty sure you won’t. Plus, Travers is already on my heels. No need to give him a reason to lock me in Azkaban, right? It would be more difficult to escape from there than from the American Ministry.”

It was time to go and when he reached the door, he heard Gellert saying:

“Do you want to keep it, love?”

Albus froze. He didn’t even need to turn over to know what he was talking about. He was pretty sure that if he did, he would see their blood troth in his lover’s hand. It was a vicious game they were playing, really. But it was better like this: the red-hair wanted to keep his reason to say “no” when the Ministry was asking him to fight his secret lover. Or at least, a reason he could state without having too many problems.

“No.”

∞

Albus Dumbledore was living an existence of shame and guilt. Except when he was with Gellert. It was amazing, incredible, how much the latter was able to silence his conscience. And maybe, Dumbledore had become addicted to this feeling.

And maybe, it was the reason why he hadn’t been more suspicious when he had received the missive. But after all, everything was the same as usual and there was no reason to think the Ministry had become competent. I would have been quite out of character for them.

But there he was. Surrounded by aurors. They had appeared the moment the door in front of him had opened.

“Dumbledore! Surprise! I’m not the one you were expected? Not too much disappointed?”

Travers… always him. If this stupid little rat was a pain in his ass before, it was even worse now. Albus didn’t think twice and drew his wand.

“If I were you, I would not do that…”

And in fact, it was a bad idea because some auror disarmed him before he could have done anything.

“You…”

“I knew there was something strange about you. But this?” he said while leading him in the bedroom. “If I had imagined one second… I will give you this: your secret was very well hidden. But in this end, your old correspondence was a true treasure. Even if I now want to wash my eyes with bleach.”

Albus didn’t know if the image of the head of the aurors reading his teenage sugary prose and seeing some of Gellert’s drawing (which included the British totally naked, a lot) was appalling or hilarious. A little bit of both without doubt.

“Travers… I don’t know what you are talking about.”

It was the weakest lie he ever said. But he didn’t have anything better in store, right now. His mind was trying at the same time to understand how the Ministry had found these letters and how to save himself from this mess. Both were difficult, even for his brilliant mind, when some aurors were menacing him and his own wand was in Travers’ hand. Maybe wandless magic was a possibility, he just needed to find the right moment.

“It is difficult, you know? Imagining the darkest wizard of the world with his lover, the _Great Albus Dumbledore_ , in this so common little room. Because that’s what you are, right? Oh! No need to make this face: I can assure you that being a sodomite is the last of your concerns!”

Albus had decided it was better to stay silent. After all, at this point, it was way too late to come up with a defence. But then, Travers said:

“But be sure that we will use that particular information against him at the right time.”

“What?”

He couldn’t really explain it but the idea to use Gellert’s sexual orientation against him, when there was so many other possibilities – about way worst things, seemed obscene to him. Maybe because Gellert’s love for him, for a _man_ , was the only thing that kept the dark wizard to lash out on Great Britain. Or maybe because it was not something he had to be judge on: there was plenty other things more atrocious about Gellert Grindelwald.

“Oh! I’m pretty sure he is going to lose some followers. After all, who would like to serve a sodomite? We will see what Purebloods detest the most between this and Muggles…”

“You mean that you would prefer to use this against Gellert rather than showing that the Ministry is a better option?”

When Travers was going to answer to the poor argument, Albus chose this moment to attack. He unleashed his magic and the aurors flew away. He would not have admitted it but it was satisfying to use it in an offensive way on someone. But suddenly, he felt a sting on his neck. He touched it and found some dart.

“What?” he began after falling on the floor, paralysed.

He saw Travers shoes and then the latter was crouching in front of him. He seemed so smug that it was difficult not to punch him in the face. Fortunately for the head of the aurors, Albus couldn’t move anymore.

“Dumbledore, the Muggles lover… taken down by some Muggle invention. Ironic, isn’t it?”

And truly, it was. Maybe Gellert was right when he said time and time again that it would be his demise. But really, this was pathetic and not at all how the most brilliant wizard of his generation thought he would end.

And there he was.

∞

If Albus has been in a better state, he would have said that using _Endoloris_ on someone in order to worm out informations was a bad idea. Most of the time, torture was only useful to make someone say whatever their persecutors wanted to make the pain stop.

But he couldn’t. It was too hard to even speak. He couldn’t think about why they stopped asking questions a long time ago. Was it, at this point, only a punition? But he hasn’t be judged by the law, yet. He hadn’t be brought before a tribunal. Technically he was still innocent – even if he knew himself, he wasn’t. So why?

And then, he was left alone. The dark curse ceased. The pain stayed but duller, less vivid. He heard his torturer speaking to someone else:

“I think it’s good. I managed to leave him conscious.”

“Great. Like that, our Legilimens will be able to search into his nasty secrets.”

This irritating voice belonged to a man he knew but he couldn’t remember well. However, there were more important things. So, it was the reason of this whole torture. Making him weak enough in order to go lurking into his mind. But he wouldn’t let them do what they wanted. He just couldn’t stay here while having his mind violated.

“You can’t do that…” he managed to articulate with a hoarse voice from screaming. “It’s against the… law…”

“Ha? You can still speak, Mister Dumbledore? You are truly impressive. But it’s a matter of national… no, Mondial security. So, we are granted unlimited power upon you in order to take down the terrorist Gellert Grindelwald. I don’t think you know it, but he made quite a spectacle in Paris. Fortunately, the Scamander brothers were there… I would never have thought I would thank Newt… Especially, when he delivered a so pretty present.”

“But of course, you did not… manage… to stop… Gellert…”

Maybe he should not have done this. Because clearly, it angered the man.

“Don’t be too happy”, he hissed. “It’s a question of time before we catch your… _friend_. But for now, we may proceed. It’s time for us to visit your sweet memories, Dumbledore. We would like to find more about this so lovely made brooch Grindelwald is always carrying. And I’m pretty sure you have something to do with it.”

And Travers, because of course it was him, didn’t know the huge mistake he was going to make. He really didn’t. Because, if he had, he wouldn’t have poke Albus Dumbledore’s demons.

There were creatures which were better to be locked up.

∞

Albus Dumbledore was standing at the top of a cliff. And the void has never been this tempting. And the dark and deep sea has never been that dangerous. And the salted wind was making his bright hair sticky.

He was crying and he didn’t even know why. No, it wasn’t true: he did know why. He just didn’t want to think about it. Because everyone knew. Everyone was judging him. Everyone was a fool. But nobody was enough aware to realise it.

Albus blinked several times. And the seventh time, his own demon, his personal temptation appeared. The fallen angel incarnated. As sweet as a sin.

“Why are you here? cried Albus. Why are you always here? Why do you still want me? I am no good, don’t you see?”

His long-lost love didn’t answer. He came nearer. Until he was close enough for Albus to see his mischievous mismatched eyes. He could still drown into them.

“Don’t be afraid, Al’, I will always hold your hand. But for now, it’s time to sleep.”

Gellert smiled at him, while saying this. A sweet smile, a true smile. A smile which was Albus’. _And no one else’s_. Albus looked at the offered hand and, after a second that last like eternity, took it. Because it was true: as long as Gellert was with him, everything would be fine. They enlaced each other and with a simple push, Albus fell from the cliff. But his love was holding him and nothing else did matter.

At the end, he has not been strong enough to wear his perfect persona until the end. Maybe because deep down inside him, he didn’t really want to. It didn’t matter.

And then, at last, he was home.

∞

When Albus opened his eyes, he knew he wasn’t in Azkaban. He had never been there, but he was sure it was colder. He was sure it wasn’t where his father has been detained for so long. There was not the lingering despair that came off with the dementors. Truly some charming creatures. Slowly, the former professor tried to sit down more properly. It was difficult at first, but he managed to do it.

The Ministry. He was still there. He didn’t really know why: after they tore his mind, trampled on his memories, his life, what good could he be? Maybe they wanted to use him as a scapegoat? After all, it would have been fair: he had slept with the Enemy while pretending to fight it. “Pretending”: of course, it would be what everyone would think. When he was pretty sure that he was the only reason Great Britain has not been directly targeted by Grindelwald. The irony.

But to be honest, now, he didn’t give a fuck. He didn’t give a fuck about Great Britain. About wizards. Even about his dear Hogwarts. No, right now, Albus Dumbledore wanted revenge. And it would end bloodily. Because he had two options: either he was waiting for Gellert to understand that he was held captive and pray for a rescue, or he could save himself.

He was the great Albus Dumbledore. He had already made his choice.

 

“Excuse me?”

The guard – who was a young auror, didn’t respond. He gave him his food and turned around and walked away. But then, Albus used his joker. People seemed to forget so many things about him. For example, how much skilled he was. And not only with his magic.

“Mister McKinley.”

The guard stopped and looked at him with surprise. He seemed to hesitate during a few seconds before saying:

“You remember me?”

“Yes, of course I do. Erik McKinley. You left Hogwarts five years ago. You were very good in transfiguration, even if you were sometimes helped by Miss Miller.”

“She is my wife, now.”

“Oh! Congratulations! I hope you’ll live a long and happy life with her.”

“Is that true?” McKinley interrupted him.

“What?”

“The rumour which says that you betrayed us for… for Grindelwald.”

Albus wore his comprehensive mask. A mask of trust and confidence. A weapon on its own.

“Someone has to be guilty for them, for the population. And because I knew him when I was 18… I’m the perfect candidate.”

“But you are the only one powerful enough to stop him. It’s a known fact!”

“I’m pleased to see you think that but it’s not what the majority believes now…”

So, it meant that the Ministry had still not given details beyond “Dumbledore works with Grindelwald” yet. It was a chance for him. And a huge mistake for them.

 “I need to go now, Professor. I’m sorry…”

“Just a last thing, my boy. Do you know what they are going to do with me? I would prefer to know my fate.”

“There will be a public trial. In one week.”

“Thank you, Erik.”

“I’m coming back soon. Enjoy your meal.”

Albus gave him a little smile and the door was closed. He looked at the plate. There was something which seemed vaguely eatable on it. He took it and threw it on the floor. Then, he broke the dishes.

“Oops. What a shame that I will never repay it.”

The taboo on Dark Arts in Great Britain was truly a shame. Especially when it came to the most ancient branches like the Blood Arcana. Its particularities were indeed interesting. This magic was based on sacrifice, blood sacrifice obviously. And it needed just a little spark to be activated. Exactly what Dumbledore needed.

Fortunately, the bracelets on his wrists could not suppress entirely his power. Just enough to lower the risk of him being a threat. He looked at his fingers for a moment and decided. He took a fragment of the former plate and slashed the time of them. It was not a lot, but it would work. Eventually.

“Good. Now, it’s time to see if I’m still good at this.”

And he was the Great Albus Dumbledore: of course, he still was good at this.

 

When McKinley came back, he found Dumbledore sitting in the middle of his cell. He was calm, his eyes closed, and everything was okay, except the plate in pieces on the floor.

“Yeah, sorry for that, Erik. I was a bit clumsy after what they had done to me.”

It was the moment when McKinley noticed the blood on Albus’ hands. He approached the older wizard. He remembered him from Hogwarts and could not help himself but to feel affection for him. He was a good teacher, even if the rumours about him were terrible. He crouched and held his fingers. And when Dumbledore’s sleeves were lifted because of his moves, he knew he had made a mistake. A big one.

“I would like to say that I’m sorry about your future death. But, to be honest, _I don’t give a fuck_.”

And then, he used the piece of plate he had hidden in his sleeve to cut McKinley’s throat. Erik tried to stop the flood of blood, but it was not conclusive. Really, the Muggle way of killing people was efficient. But he understood now why Gellert burned his enemy to ashes: it was way cleaner.

Now, he had less than ten minutes before some Ministry workers went checking on their missing McKinley. It would be enough, now that he had something like five litres of blood at his disposition. Because yes, the first try was not nearly enough. But now…

 

Travers was drinking his tea when an auror entered in his office, panicked. He seemed terrified and Torquil stood up, wand in hand.

“What is happening?”

“Sir… Dumbledore escaped!”

“What? Why am I not hearing the alarm? And why are you crying, you bloody idiot?”

“It’s just… please…”

“How did he do this? There was protections! How did he leave the Ministry?”

“He did not.”

“Explain!”

“He did not leave… he is actually doing a murderous rampage… I don’t know, he is using a weird magic… and…”

“And you couldn’t say it before?” Travers yelled.

He ran to the door, but the door opened before he could reach it. And it revealed:

“Travers! Surprise! I’m not the one you were expected? Not too much disappointed?”

Before Torquil could do anything, his wand flew in Albus’ hand. Without waiting, the wizard broke it and moved his hand in the direction of the other auror. The latter began to levitate. Held by his throat thanks to invisible hands. He tried to kick in the air, without any success.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Torquil? Who do you think I am? I was known to be a white wizard, it’s true. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to use the Dark Arts. And wandless magic, of course. Unfortunately, it’s not something you practice, right? What a shame, really…”

In the background, the auror had stopped moving and Albus finally let him fall on the floor. The sound of it was a revelation for Travers. He was in a very bad position and he didn’t understand why no one has not come to arrest the prisoner, yet. Was it possible that he had killed everyone? It was impossible! Especially since he has not his wand with him, right? Or maybe it had something to do with all the blood and the symbol painted on his forearms. He needed to find a solution, quickly. Because the Dumbledore ha had in front of him seemed sweetly murderous, which was a little bit terrifying.

“What do you want?” he hissed. “If it’s your wand, it had already been destroyed.”

At this moment, Dumbledore was looking at him as if he was a child who couldn’t understand the simplest instructions.

“Oh Torquil… I don’t need my wand, right now. What I want is ten minutes of your time. Which will be… your last ones, I guess?”

∞

Dumbledore was sitting in Godric’s Hollow graveyard, in front of his mother’s and little sister’s tombstones. He didn’t know how he had managed to come here but he did it anyway. He had killed a lot of people today. Most of them didn’t have a chance. It was horrible but he was curiously calm. He was serene. What he had done did not really matter. After all, they were not dear to his heart. He didn’t even know the majority.

But Travers? He deserved it. He had spoiled things that Albus cherished. It was normal for him to pay the bill. What could he do, right now? His life in Hogwarts was over. His life as the Great Albus Dumbledore was over: nobody would accept him. Especially after the slaughter he has done in the Ministry. But they were so easy to kill: what is really a surprise they could not manage to stop Gellert?

He stared into space. He could not see his former home from here, but he could make out Bathilda’s house roof. Maybe she was home. However, going to see her was not a good idea: he was a criminal now and even if she was okay to receive him, it would be dangerous for her.

He looked at his forearms which were stained by blood. He had painted there some ancient runes. He was not the specialist in this subject. Gellert was, notably because he studied in Durmstrang, in the North. Transfiguration was way more enjoyable in his opinion. Yet, in this situation, it helped him a lot. Now, he needed to find a wand and…

He was drawn from his thought by a crack, the sound of someone _apparating_. He picked himself back and examined the man who was coming in front of him. He had a small smile on his face. He was well dressed but compared to Albus, it was not that difficult.

“How did you know I would be here?” he asked.

“I know you would come back where everything began. I know you, Al’.”

He sat next to the former professor. Grindelwald was way too entertained by everything that happened. He didn’t have the right to be here, in front of Ariana’s grave. But Albus didn’t care. He needed him, right now. In a similar way as in 1899. But today, Gellert was here, with him.

“It was quite a show you made, in the Ministry. You almost impressed Vinda. What happened?”

“They… they tortured me. And then, they… they investigated through my memories. _All_ of them. They had _no right_ to do this. _None_.”

Grindelwald had tensed next to him. He understood the seriousness of what happened. It was a serious blow, on his plan but also on his lover. But maybe, it was a good thing in the end: he could get his biggest threat back. He would deal with everything else later.

“I wanted to kill them so much, you have no idea…”

“You did well.” Gellert simply answered. “I would have murder them for what they have done to you anyway.”

“Because you are the only one who can torment me?”

A smirk appeared on Grindelwald’s face:

“Exactly.”

Dumbledore sighed. He put his head on the other’s shoulder. Now that the illusion he had carefully craft around himself had vanished, he felt freer. He could do anything he wanted. His conscience was asleep. Now it was the time for _fun_. For forbidden experiences. For dangerous spells. For everything he could hope. Who needed morals while having almost god-like power, anyway?

“Gel’… I think I might need a new dwelling. I could probably consider myself discharged from my position in Hogwarts. Do you have any ideas?”

“Hum… I don’t know. Have you ever seen the Austrian Alps?”


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey !
> 
> It was a OS at first but I couldn't help myself to come back because I have some new ideas about it!  
> I hope you will like it. I will need a third part in order to finish it because I want to torture some other characters before finishing it (I think you will understand while reading part 2).  
> Well... I don't have much more to say... thanks for the reviews on part 1 and I hope you will enjoy this one too !
> 
> PS : The Ministy and the Daily Prophet are trash.

It had been two days and Hector Fawley didn’t have slept a lot. His wife was worried for him – as much for his health as for his life. And he agreed with her. He didn’t know what would kill him first: overwork or assassination. However, he couldn’t go home yet. He needed to see the British Prime Minister. The Muggles had to know the dreadful news.

They couldn’t find Dumbledore. Grindelwald had been silent for the last few days. Everyone could feel it was the calm before the storm. And the moment it would begin, the world would see a hurricane. A big part of the population reproached him a too lenient behaviour, but it was easy for them to say that. The Ministry fought against a Dark Wizard extremely powerful and ready to do everything he could to reach his goal. On the top of this, they couldn’t use the same methods – at least not openly – because it would place them to the same level.

It was really a no-win situation. And the Cornelian dilemma was on his shoulders. Especially since no one had yet accepted the position which Travers formerly occupied. He could understand this: his death had been particularly cruel.

Dumbledore had used a dark spell on him. It was laced with blood magic and consisted in confining someone in their mind to make them experiment death time and time again until their heart gives up – from stress or other things. Called _Solum Exsilium_ , the investigators from the Ministry had needed way more time than usual to find it. It was a curse created by Ekrizdis, Azkaban’s founder.

And it had frightened everyone even more: who knew that the former professor was able to practice this kind of magic? He was a DADA teacher and was considered as the brightest wizard of their age but how far had he gone in his researches? The possibilities were terrifying.

It would have been easier if Fawley had known what Dumbledore wanted. Was it revenge for what they had done to him? Did he just follow Grindelwald’s orders?  It was maybe a bit of both, or none of this for what he could say. They had questioned Scamander – after all, Dumbledore had used him – but the young man didn’t seem to understand really that much his former teacher.

In summary: everything was a mess and Fawley’s role was now to announce this to the British Prime Minister. Every Muggle governing was being informed by their magic counterpart. Fawley sighed and took some Floo powder in his hand.

 

“Good evening, Sir”, Fawley said the moment he appeared in the office.

The Prime Minister could not help himself to jump with surprise. He was still not accustomed to the wizards and their magic. He didn’t think he would one day, if he was honest with himself. When he had learned their existence, he had developed kind of a paranoia for some days. The idea of having people able to make raining lightnings perhaps as neighbours was not really reassuring.

And then, he learnt that some wizards were not kind on Muggles, especially one – Gellert Grindelwald. Since this moment, he had had the impression to live with a sword of Damocles above his head. When he saw Fawley’s expression, he knew they were somehow doomed.

“You do not look well. Do you want a drink?” He proposed out of sympathy.

He had a little reserve of liqueurs in his office for emergency. And his brain was telling him it was the case, here.

“Yes… yes, please. I’m going to need one. I have the impression I did not sit for an eternity.”

“The war is still going, I imagine?” The Prime Minister asked while already knowing the answer.

Fawley stayed silent for a few seconds. He was cogitating about how present the new situation. It was difficult, especially if he wanted to hide the fact that they made a lot of mistakes in this affair. He took a sip of the glass of whiskey the other had given him and then began:

“Grindelwald has a new ally… no, not really a new ally but at least, now, he’s probably going to work plainly with him.”

“This new ally is that powerful? You still have not convinced this man… Dumbledore, to help you? To openly fight him?”

“It’s him. Dumbledore has joined Grindelwald.”

“Ah.”

It was the only thing he found to say. He was not managing to understand the implications of these news, right now. He knew that Albus Dumbledore was a powerful wizard. He had never met him, but he had heard about him since he had been bringing up to date about the wizarding world. However, it seemed distant, like a legend. An Arthurian legend where The Ministry-Arthur was fighting against Grindelwald-Mordred, helped by Dumbledore-Merlin. It was childish of him, but it was easier to swallow like this.

What made him realise the gravity of the situation was Fawley murmuring:

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, you have no idea.”

“There must be a solution. This Dark Lord can be stopped.”

“No, you don’t understand what I mean: it’s our fault if Dumbledore is now with him. Well, not really in itself but if we had not underestimated him, we wouldn’t be here. We have questioned him in order to gain information: we have discovered sometimes ago that he was close with Grindelwald, that he has been – and probably still was – his lover. So we arrested him and then Paris happened, I guess you heard about it, and we were desperate for new tracks about Grindelwald so we… we tortured him to be able to reach his memories.”

“Did you find anything useful?”

“No, not really. We have perhaps a better understanding of the dark wizard and Dumbledore but that’s all. And the Legilimens who came into his mind is dead, so we can’t have his opinion about what he saw.”

“How?”

“Dumbledore killed him. He used a rare and terrible kind of magic and broke through the Ministry. He slaughtered a lot of people there. It might have been a revenge for what they have done to him, because the manner he murdered Travers – the one who arrested him – was dreadful.”

Fawley finished his glass and looked at the Prime Minister. The latter had paled a lot. He seemed perhaps a little nauseous.

“We should have sent him to Azkaban before everything else. We should have been more cautious. But we didn’t know. Nobody uses blood magic today! It’s kind of taboo so just a few are studying Dark Magic seriously, in an academic way. And the Blood Arcana is very rare. Who could have guessed? Dumbledore has for speciality transfiguration, even if he was teaching Defense Against Dark Arts!”

The Prime Minister understood the feeling of having made mistakes of national consequences, but he couldn’t help himself to want to scream: “You are not the one who is going to be targeted at the end! If they’re going to slaughter us, it will be on your shoulders!”. But he didn’t and it was partly false, anyway: Fawley had also a big chance to die.

“I wanted to announce everything to you before we send you accounts about it. We are going to settle everything, I promise you. We don’t have other choices anyway. Oh! And before I forget: we are going to increase your protection. We will send you a new bodyguard. Don’t worry, he is known to be powerful and trustworthy, even if he can appear a bit scary.”

∞

It has been two weeks since the visit of Fawley and the Prime Minister was not used to Grimmson. At all. This man was terrifying. He has an aura of bloodlust that even him could feel. If it was what the Ministry considered as trustworthy, he wasn’t surprised that they had been bested by Dumbledore. Grimmson was cold as a snowdrift. He was like a bear with a sore head. In summary: he was not the kind of people he wanted to have a chat with. But at least, he was competent.

That is why, he was more than a bit surprised when he saw Grimmson, with a little smile on his face, sitting on his office chair. When the door behind him slammed it sounded as a guillotine blade. The Prime Minister did not really know why, but he knew he was doomed. Even more than before. The smirk of his bodyguard widened.

“You have a good instinct, Sir. But it’s normal, I guess. The political world is full of sharks and you need to be one to survive, or to make yourself a dauphin. But I don’t think you are quite astute enough to do so.”

The Prime Minister reaction was immediate.

“You are not Grimmson.”

“You are right. But he was nice enough to let me use his appearance. He is a wizard who knows where lay his interests. “

“Show me your true identity. If I must die, I want to see who will hold the wand.”

Not-Grimmson laughed a bit at that. It was the weirdest sound the other had ever heard. It was as if this man – even a copy of him – had not been created to be genuinely happy. The Muggle was not really surprised by this new information, but still.

“I am not going to kill you. What a waste it would be! But if you really want to see who I am…”

With more dramatics than he really needed, Not-Grimmson took is wand and pointed it to his face. The Prime Minister hoped for a moment that the wand would somehow “misfire” and kill his captor. But of course, it didn’t happen. Instead, he met blue eyes and fierce red hair. The Muggle blood froze in his veins. The wizard was still having a little smile.

“Hum? Who do you think I am? A “misfired” spell? It would be a shame. And a wand is not a gun.”

“You… you read my mind. I thought that…”

“That you had mental shields strong enough to stop me?” the other laughed with some disdain. “I am Albus Dumbledore. Not your average wizard.”

Dumbledore stood up and came nearer him. However, he stopped before attaining him and reached to his pocket. The Prime Minister didn’t know what was going to happen to him and, maybe worst, he had the impression that he couldn’t think without being spied.

Slowly, he tried to reach behind him in order to open the door but Dumbledore, who now had a rat in his hand, said:

“The door is locked. You know, Muggles may have technology but… magic is really useful too. To do this, for example.”

Without continuing what he was explaining he pointed his wand toward the animal. The latter became a man before the Prime Minister could have done anything. He didn’t seem well, but it was probably because of his former form.

“Mister Dumbledore, I’m happy to be myself again.”

“I can understand. Being in such creature without being an Animagus is not that comfortable. Anyway, Mister the Prime Minister, it’s the moment for you to do your part.”

He turned his head to the Muggle and tried to reassure him by a smile, but it didn’t seem to be sincere. It felt more like an obligation from him: something he had done so many times that he did this more by habit.

And it was the moment where the Prime Minister decided that if he had to die this evening, he would not go without a fight. That is why he tried to punch the red-haired wizard. His plan obviously failed when the former-rat managed to paralyse him.

“Sir, please. We don’t have the time for such childish behaviour. Calm down, now. You are not going to die.”

Dumbledore was speaking to him as if he was one of his students who had disappointed him. His voice was calm and distinct. In a way, he wasn’t surprised: every wizard he had met had this kind of attitude toward Muggles. It was just that some were more opened about it.

“What are you going to do with me? You can’t just make me spill my secrets and then suppress my memories: the Ministry will manage to detect it. And if you make me disappeared, people will know!”

“Hum… I guess I can tell you.” Dumbledore finally answered. “Mister Thomas is going to take your role as a Muggle Prime Minister – do not worry, he will be able to do the job well, he is half-blood and knows your customs and your job is being quite of a puppet anyway – and you, you are going to come with me to Nurmengard for some time. Do not fret, take this as fancy holydays in a beautiful castle in the Austrian Alps.”

∞

The Prime Minister has been locked in a nice bedroom in Nurmengard. Really, he thought that his captivity would have been worse materially speaking. Of course, he was here for two hours and being transformed into a rat for the transport was not the best. Well, being kidnapped was not the best, full stop. Yet, the decoration was nice. Grindelwald was tasteful.

And it was him who opened the door a few minutes later. He was accompanied by Dumbledore who had left him there without further explanations. That is why he was still convinced that he was going to die in the enemy’s castle, surrounded by people who scorned him because of his lack of magical abilities.

“Mister the Prime Minister!” Grindelwald greeted him with a wide smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you! I’m sorry it had to be in such circumstances, but you must know that our status in the wizarding world is a bit complicated. I’m Gellert Grindelwald, by the way, you must have heard about me, right?”

“Yes, I had.” He confirmed while struggling to shallow.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush, sir. I want you to announce and support our claims about the Status of Secrecy.”

“And you think that kidnapping me is going to convince me to do so? You have quite of a humour, _Herr_ Grindelwald. I know what you think about us, Muggles. I will not help you to enslave my people. And they will never believe in magic, even if I tell them, anyway.”

“Who said I was trying to convince you? I’m giving you an order. And if you are not willing to do as I say, maybe I can make you an obedient little puppet with my spells – you can thank Albus for convincing me to not do it right now and be rid of it.”

“You can use your mental manipulation on me as you want, but at the end, the Ministry will discover it!”

“It’s true, it’s true. That’s why, doing it willingly is our better option. For us but for you, too.”

“For me? How could I win anything from this?”

“You could preserve your family’s life, to begin with. You have one son – David – and a wife – Sarah. Vinda even found your illegitimate daughter, Elizabeth! It’s lovely really, a family like yours… I’m pretty sure you make… how do people like you call it… Ah! I know! I’m pretty sure you are making garden parties with the rest of the polite society every once in a month, right? It would be a shame to destroy this charming painting, don’t you think?”

“I’m not afraid. I will not give into your threats! You are powerless when it comes to our world and I will not give you its keys!”

He was saying this with all the bravado he could, but he was terrorised. He was just more used to hide it. Because if the wizards did not, indeed, have the power in their world, what could prevent them from taking it, except their own government? And the latter didn’t seem in great health lately… His family was going to die. He was going to die. And these wizards who were probably some hidden devils were going to burn their entire planet in their quest for power. Everything was great.

“Do you really think I would not do this?” Gellert answered casually, even with a little smile. “I killed more women and children than you can think of it.”

“Gellert!” Albus could not help himself but protest. “Don’t say things like this!”

The Prime Minister was surprised by this intervention: the other wizard didn’t really have spoken until now. But maybe there was a chance? Even if it was terribly tiny, he was okay to take it.

For the last few days, Dumbledore’s anger and hatred had quite weakened and the idea of Grindelwald killing young ones reminded him of his students… and his sister. He didn’t want to be part of this kind of actions, he knew his conscience would not allow it. Even if he knew it was for the Greater Good, there was still a limit in his mind.

The dark wizard glared at him: he didn’t appreciate to be reprimanded in front of a Muggle. He could accept Albus battling with him in the privacy – he even liked it to an extent – but in public? No. Absolutely not. However, Albus was not one of his followers. He was his equal and intimidation was certainly not something that could be used on him.

That’s why he grabbed the former professor arm and dragged him from the room where the Prime Minister was locked.

“What are you playing at, Al’?” He asked angrily. “Are you fucking serious? Talking to me like this in front of this nobody!”

“This “nobody”, as you call him, is the head of the British Muggles! Do you think that threatening him would work? Threatening his family? Do you despise them so much that you even treat the useful ones like that?”

“Of course it will work! We are almost gods for him! Making him a puppet by fear is the best thing for this kind of animals!”

“Are you really calling them “animals”? And you think they will accept us?”

“I thought you were with me!” Grindelwald protested with furious eyes. “You had no problem with violence these last days! Or maybe do I have to remind you of what you did in the Ministry? Not what the perfect Albus Dumbledore would have done right?”

“I joined you because I want to fight against the Ministry methods! Not to enslave Muggles and making them liking us is a better way to manage to do it! How can you charm every wizard you come across and not being able to do the same thing with this man?”

Gellert seemed to be on the edge do answer something mean but he shut his mouth and just glared at him. Albus maintained his gaze until the Austrian wizard hissed:

“You are a liar! You joined me because you wanted to be free of your useless morals but of course, they are coming back at every turn and now you try to turn this as some righteous decision of yours!  You know what? Do whatever you want, for all I care! But when you’re going to be really hurt because of them, don’t come crying to me! You forget way to easily what’s going to happen if we don’t do everything we can. You are not in Hogwarts anymore, hiding like a coward: we don’t have the luxury of selecting our methods!”

And then, he turned heels and went away in the depths of Nurmengard.

∞

Albus hadn’t really seen Grindelwald for the remaining days of the week. They were talking but only when it was necessary, and it was purely professional – he hadn’t meet the Prime Minister again. That is why he didn’t sleep in their room either. He had asked Vinda where he could go and the French woman, who was already done with them at this point, had just indicated him a door and walked away.

And it was probably going to be the same today. That is what he thought. But it was not going to happen. Indeed, there was something different this morning: a newspaper was placed on his little desk. Usually, he was finding it in the kitchen. Gellert and his followers had bought a subscription to numerous newspapers from around the world. Which had been surprising at first, but useful in the end.

He took the paper in his hands and understood instantly why someone had thought that it was better to give him right away. The front was announcing in capital letters: “ _DUMBLEDORE & GRINDELWALD – THE TRUTH ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP HAS BEEN REVEALED – EXCLUSIVE NEWS FROM OUR STAR JOURNALIST, SCARLETT SKEETER”_. Skeeter was known to be a gossips reporter. Albus had always been contemptuous of her and her works. It was full of rumours and fake information. And everyone knew it. And everyone was happy to believe it all the same. What was better than savouring other people’s degradations? Not a lot, Albus was quite afraid.

He was pretty sure that what she had written about them was dreadful. And it was an euphemism in comparison to the reality of the slanders.

“ _Some time ago, the occurrence now called “The Ministry slaughter” happened. As everyone knows, the principal protagonist of this terrible affair is Albus Perceval Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the wizard considered as the brightest of his age. He had been arrested because of supposed links with the infamous Gellert Grindelwald. His trial should have stood the Friday of the same week. It didn’t occur, obviously. However, the Daily Prophet, thanks to my formidable gift of journalist, was able to seize upon some scandalous information about the charges against the accused._

_We don’t know a lot about Albus Dumbledore, but a thing is certain: he has never been married. Nobody has ever seen him in charming company, even when he was student in Hogwarts, and for good reasons: he has never been attracted to women. And it seems to be the same situation for the terrible Gellert Grindelwald. Yes, my dear reader, you understand well, what I’m saying: Dumbledore is accused of having had intercourse with the Enemy – on top of being one of the founders of the odious ideology of the Greater Good._

_Dumbledore and Grindelwald met in 1899 in Godric’s Hollow. The latter was staying with his great-aunt – Bathilda Bagshot – for the summer after he had been expelled from Durmstrang. The reasons were clear: he had used dark spells on other students, among other things that were not specified in his file, but which were overwhelming without doubts. Was Dumbledore aware of his_ friend _’s violent tendencies? Of course, he was, the letters they exchanged made clear of that. Yet, it didn’t stop the young Albus to begin a friendship with him. A friendship which quickly evolved in a sexual relationship. Maybe they bonded over their extremist views about Muggles (after all, Dumbledore’s father was sent to Azkaban for killing young ones) or maybe it was just their revolting inclinations that called to each other._

_Either way, they broke up at the end of the summer. But did they really? For the Ministry, they did not. It was just a way for Dumbledore to help Grindelwald to fight against our venerable institutions in the plain light without having to worry. Indeed, the late head of the aurors, Torquil Travers, arrested him with his team when he was going to meet the dark wizard for doubtlessly licentious reasons.”_

Albus was not here when Skeeter was writing this _rag,_ but I was sure she had been delighted to set down on paper these venomous words. It was maybe the scoop of her carrier that may or may not be shortened. The red-haired wizard continued his reading, foreseeing that it would only go worse.

_“For years, Albus Dumbledore has been teaching to young wizard Transfiguration and then later, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Which, in itself, is already a crime. Indeed, may I remind you, my dear readers, that sodomites are forbidden to teach to children? It is a righteous measure taken by the Ministry years ago in order to save young ones from these kind of bad influences – or even worst given some sordid affairs._

_Dumbledore did manage to teach in Hogwarts without having his shameful secret revealed. However, nobody can hide for too long their own twisted nature. And this is exactly what happened with him because in fact, even his students could feel that the former professor had something sinister in him._

_I questioned some of them and one – a third year boy who wants to stay anonymous – confessed to me that “the professor Dumbledore was always watching [them] weirdly… it was_ not normal _. He always had his little favourites, especially in the Gryffindor House.” Hogwarts is a respectable school, it is a known fact. Yet, is it possible that dark matters had happened behind its walls?”_

Albus cringed so much. He wanted to vomit. How dared they? How dared they imply he would harass children? Did they think he was that monstrous? Known sodomites were forbidden to teach to children and they were playing on this… but this? This was obscene! He had slaughtered people in the ministry and what the journalist was insisting on was this? Were they even real at this point?

Who was the name of bastard who had written this again? Scarlett Skeeter. He would make her regret to have ever been born. This bitch would suffer dearly. The fury that had cooled was coming back with full force.

“ _But is it really surprising to learn all of this when Dumbledore is probably the one who killed his own sister, Ariana Dumbledore? The poor girl had been declared dead in 1899 in mysterious circumstances. However, after some researches, I found that his death was linked to a fight between Dumbledore and his brother, Aberforth (who is still interrogated by the Ministry), and in which Grindelwald was involved too. The boys said to their neighbour, Bathilda Bagshot – who, may I remind you, also happens to be Grindelwald’s great-aunt, that she died by accident. But was it really one?_

_It is known that the young Albus was ambitious. His sister must have appeared as a burden. The poor girl was indeed ill and couldn’t leave the house. Left in his brother’s care, she was the reason him and his lover were stopped in their plans to travel around the world. So, is there a possibility that, in order to remove this obstacle, the two wizards chose to kill her and make crime look like an accident? I am going to let you, my readers, be judge of your own conclusions.”_

The article was continuing for some time but Albus couldn’t pursue. It was too much. That was his limit point. He cried. He cried of sadness. He cried of anger. He cried of hatred. How dared they judge him? How dare they voicing their disgusting opinion about him like this? Who did they think they were? They were just weak wizards who couldn’t do anything by themselves. They needed the Ministry to know how to think. He was better than them. I had always been and will always be.

And they would pay, and they would cry, and they would beg. He would bring the Muggle world to its knees, where their rightful place was. The wizards would be thankful for that and they would see. They would see.

Or they would die.

∞

Albus washed up on the beach of dark sand at the bottom of the cliff. He opened his eyes. He had the impression to emerge from a long and deep sleep. However, he was not well-rested. It was quite the opposite. He stood on wobbly legs and turned around. Not far from him, he spotted a young man with golden locks. Seated on a rock surrounded by dark waters, he was staring dramatically at the horizon, his cigarette held by long fingers ended by black nails.

Without thinking, Albus came near him. The water rose to his torso and when he reached his goal, he curled on the other’s lap. It felt natural.

“Ah, my love…” The blond boy whispered while touching Albus’ red hair. “What am I going to do with you? Sleeping was too hard for you? Do you want me to help you to do so?”

He shook his head as if he was sorry for what he was going to do. He took a long drag on his cigarette and breathed it out in the form of rings. Albus was finding it weird but looking at them was peaceful.

“But I can’t make everyone suffer. They are going to hate me. I want to please them. I have to.”

“Of course, you can make them pay if you so desire. Why would you worry about them? They don’t deserve your attention.”

“But I can’t simply ignore them. They are everywhere. They swarm.”

“Keep them in check if you want, but you are above them all, Al’. You don’t need to respect their rules if you don’t want to. And you shouldn’t want it just because it’s what others await from you. You have every choice you can possibly imagine.”

Their wet clothes were sticking to their skin. The red-haired would have appreciated to have the sun high in the sky, its pleasant warmth drying them. But no, it was only menacing clouds.

“And you, what do you want?” He asked naively.

“I just want to watch the world burn with you by my side.”

“It’s not right!” Albus protested weakly, the mismatched iris trying to swallow him whole.

“Of course, it’s not! It’s what makes it so interesting, don’t you think? What is better than an ephemeral spectacle?”

“But I thought that we were going to make the world fairer…”

The blond boy rolled his eyes. His face was so close of his own that Albus thought for a moment that he was going to kiss him. He would have been happy if he has done so: it would have eased the guilt he was feeling. But it didn’t happen. Instead, Gellert murmured against his lips:

“Albie… we don’t need to lie to ourselves anymore… the only thing that matters is _us._ ”

And before he could do anything, he felt the love of his life wrapping his hand around his throat. The next moment, he was forcefully pushed under water. He began to struggle but then stopped, too chocked, when he saw that it wasn’t the blond boy anymore who was trying to drown him. It was a red-haired boy. It was him.

Before he could protest further, he swallowed water. He started to struggle again but it was no use. He was going to be put to silence by himself. His grip on the hand around his throat began to soften. He was asphyxiated, the water in his mouth, his nose, everywhere. If at the beginning, he was panicking, now he felt himself weakened. His conscience was gently drifting away.

The last thing he heard before the black curtain falls was the blond boy’s voice:

“I wish you sweet dreams, my love… and this time, forever.”

∞

Nurmengard’s laboratory was actually a mess. There was no other word to call it. And of course, it was Albus’ fault. Some would have thought that Grindelwald was the creature of chaos and Dumbledore the creature of order. And it was true to some extent. However, Gellert was the fussy person et Albus the messy one. That’s also why, when they were together that summer in 1899, they had bickered a lot. “Al’! Stop leaving your clothes on the floor of my bedroom!” “Gel’! Stop meddle with my things! It’s an organised mess and now I can’t find anything anymore!”

However, in this case, it was way worse than what Gellert had usually seen. There were piles of books everywhere – and he had noticed that some sentences in it were underlined which made him cringe. Several candles had gone off in a puddle of wax and the curtains were closed. Ingredients for potions were scattered on tables, half used. But it was not the most terrible sight in the room. No, what made Gellert’s eyes gone wide was Albus.

He was bent over a cauldron, his long hair held by a simple lace – they had not been washed for days. Grindelwald couldn’t really see well with the obscurity, but his complexion was waxy. He seemed ill and it was not the feverish fire in his eyes that helped the whole thing. Gellert had let his partner alone for the last few days, knowing that after what happened with the Daily Prophet, he would need it. But this?

And Vinda was complaining that he couldn’t taking care of himself when he forgot to eat some days. This was way more worrying. He knew that the article would have affected him but not that much. It was mostly gossips and he had had to deal with them concerning some of their followers – and maybe he even lost some of them but most knew where their interests laid.

He was angry with Albus after what happened with the Prime Minister – who was living decently with them for now (even if Vinda was terrorising him daily just by looking at him at every breakfast and dinner). However, this situation had erased this misunderstanding. There was more important.

Gellert came closer from the man who was considered as the brightest of his age. He also needed to get changed: the dark wizard could see numerous stains on his sleeves, and he was not sure that they could be cleaned. A waste really. Not that Albus would care: Gellert had always been more stylish and vainer than him.

“Love… please… speak to me. What are you doing?”

 “Something of importance…” Albus mumbled. “I’m not that far from the solution…”

On these words, he drew his wand from his sleeve and Gellert couldn’t help himself to move backward. For a moment, he thought that the other wizard was going to attack him, but he simply placed it on his palm until a cut appeared. He drew his blood until it fell in the cauldron. The dark mixture in it came to the boil.

“Maybe like this…”

Then, the former professor went in a corner of the room. While following him, Grindelwald heard some whines from the cage that had been placed there. When he came nearer, he discovered that some rodents where held captive in it. Albus took one of them in his hands cautiously in order to not be bitten.

“Come, little one… I promise I just want to give you something to eat…” He murmured to the animal.

“Where did you find them? In Nurmengard? I knew that Vinda’s cat was not enough to hunt them down.”

Albus didn’t pick up his anecdote and answered directly:

“They are not rats… At least, they were not _born_ rats.”

The Austrian’s eyes opened wide, suddenly understanding the origin of these rodents. He asked, incredulous:

“Albus… Are you the one responsible of the multiple disappearance of Muggles in the little town the nearest of Nurmengard, these last few days?”

The red-haired wizard looked at him with a baleful gaze. It was the moment the dark wizard knew he had to be really careful. His partner was ready to lash out on everything – and everyone. And even if he was his equal, he didn’t want to fight an unstable Albus. It would only end badly.

“What if I was? I didn’t remember that you had any problem with using them like we want… like _animals_.”

“It is true,” admitted Gellert while carefully taking the mouse away from Albus’ hands, “but right now, I don’t think using them as guinea pigs for your experiments is a good idea.”

He put the little mouse with the other in the cage and then take his partner’s shoulders to make him focus. The blue irises were practically glowing with malice. It was a weird feeling to be under this gaze, he had never been there before. But Gellert was not intimidated at all.

“Albus… you need to eat, to bath and to sleep. And after, we will talk about everything, including your experimental potions _and Skeeter’s article_.”

Gellert felt him tense under his hand. The former professor didn’t want to think about it. It fuelled his rage, his hatred. It made him want to burn everything to the ground and revel in the destruction he would cause. And Grindelwald understood it. He understood what was happening in Albus because he had living it before: after he had Seen his visions about the Great War and other atrocities the Muggles finally made.

He couldn’t do a lot to reduce Dumbledore’s sorrow. But he asked anyway:

“What could I do to make you feel better, Al’?”

There was a moment of silence before the red-haired wizard take refuge into his embrace. The dark wizard welcomed him and then he heard a whisper near his ear:

“Do you know where this harlot of Skeeter lives?”

Gellert couldn’t help to give him a sinister smile as an answer. The dark wizard was not the best when it came to comfort people, even his partner. But this… this was something he could do.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello there !
> 
> Yes, it's the last chapter! I post it fastly because I want it to be finished, lol  
> I have other project on my mind, less dark than this, but you will see !  
> I hope you will like this last part. It should have been longer but at the end, I prefered it like that so...  
> I'm happy to have finished this and thank you for the kuddos and the comments, it was really nice !
> 
> PS: Vinda is dat bitch, but she deserves it.  
> PPS: nobody make baguette as us sorry not sorry. And you really don't know what you miss if you have never eat Tradition. That's a fact.

Vinda Rosier didn’t have an easy life. She had joined Grindelwald to satisfy his longing for world domination and Muggle’s murders – sorry, in order to satisfy her longing for peace and freedom. Yes, it was better worded like this, without doubt. That is why, at first, she had not been convinced with Dumbledore joining them. A Muggle-lover… Vinda had never understood Gellert’s tastes.

And because he was now living with them in Nurmengard, she had to see him almost daily. Except after the unfortunate article, when he had locked himself in the laboratory. This publication had been a shame, really. At least, it had lightened the British wizard of his boring conscience. However, there was still a possibility for him to have a new moral crisis.

That is why when she saw him holding a cat with long and beige hairs in one of the numerous corridors of the castle, she stopped.

“Oh lovely… where do you come from?” He whispered to the animal.

Vinda squinted: she was not going to accept it. Definitely not.

“This cat has a name – and it is _Paris-Brest_. Her life has a bigger value than yours – if I have a word to say about it. So now, put her down, you British man.”

She had heard about Dumbledore’s little experiments with rats and there was no way she would let him do this to her pet. Paris-Brest was playing with the braided red hair, which was surprising: her cat had better taste usual; she didn’t like anyone except her owner.

“I have no ill intentions toward her.”

“Did you also say that to your _Sans-Charme_ rodents?” She retorted.

Dumbledore was always surprised to see that Vinda was not intimidated. But did Gellert really tell her about his shameful _Rat Episode_? Was Gellert telling her everything? Could have they been lovers when him and the dark wizard were separated? He must have said it aloud because the French woman answered his question:

“No, we usually were crying together upon our disastrous sentimental life, when you thought it was a good idea to have a moral crisis. Which is… rather pathetic now that I think about it… but either way, Gellert is my… how do boring people call that… ah, yes… he is my friend. However, you are not. And you will never be. So, my cat is higher in my priorities than you, understood?”

Dumbledore made a little laugh. If he was honest, this woman was really entertaining in her frankness. He put Paris-Brest on the floor and the cat went away, as if nothing had happened. The former professor took his attention back on Vinda:

“Why do you think we are never going to be friend? Maybe I could surprise you?”

“You are British.”

“And that’s enough for you?” Albus chuckled.

“Yes. And the fact that you put your nasty hands on Paris-Brest is another proof of it.”

“Did you really call your cat like a Muggle cake?”

“It’s not a _cake_ , you moron. It’s called a _pâtisserie_ , it’s not the same thing. And yes, I did, because it’s maybe the sole thing Sans-Charmes ever did right in their existence. It was my duty to bring it to everyone’s attention.”

“I’m pretty sure both are the same thing, in different languages.”

“ _No, it’s not_. Are you the kind of British people who think they can make _bread_?”

“Yes, we can make bread, last time I checked.”

“ _No, you can’t_. Can you believe that Queenie told me her Muggle boyfriend had opened a bakery _in New York_? He must be joking!”

“So, on the top of being an anti-Muggle extremist, you are a _baguette_ extremist?”

“I’m French, Dumbledore.” She answered as if it explained everything. “But now, if you can excuse me, _heretic_ , I need to go to Grindelwald’s office.”

And without saying anything more, the woman went away, under the other wizard’s amused gaze.

 

Grindelwald was in his office, writing some speech for the next rally or another event. She closed the door behind her and beheld the room. It was richly decorated. Nurmengard was known to be the dark wizard’s prison for the general public but it was only partly true. In fact, Nurmengard was mostly a home. A dark and terrifying and empty home sometimes, but a home, nonetheless.

“Sir, you have asked for me to come?” She said while remaining at a respectable distance from the desk.

She couldn’t help herself to look at Grindelwald’s haircut with a critical gaze. She had hoped that having his lover here would make him change but it seemed to be a wasted hope. But what it really surprising when said lover was okay to not wash his hair for _days_? No, it wasn’t. And it was a shame. On the top of that, she had internally accepted to take care of one evil middle-aged genius. Not two.

Grindelwald continued his task but showed her with his hand the seat near his desk.

“Yes, yes. Please sit down, it will take some time to explain everything to you.”

Vinda complied and took a dramatic pose on the chair, as usual. She needed to be photogenic in every circumstance. Just in case. The dark wizard finally looked up from his work and crossed his fingers under his chin. His eyes were as sharp as usual, but he seemed happier. Maybe because his partner was now fully on the road of evil deeds. She could understand she would not have been against finding her own murderous soulmate. But it was another story.

“It’s time to pursue a high level of ambition. And it is why your services are needed. You have to organise some attacks on Muggle London. Attacks which can’t be explained by science. It has to be wide enough to prevent the Ministry from erasing the Muggles’ memories and destructing enough to make them panic. Can I count on you for this, my dear?”

There was a minute of silence and then, Vinda Rosier smirked. A look that didn’t augur well in general.

“Gellert Grindelwald, who do you think I am? Terrorizing Muggles is my speciality.”

∞

Vinda looked at the small group of six she had gathered for the mission. These people were all trusted followers. They were talented and intelligent. They would work well. The witch was convinced of this. She didn’t know what Grindelwald’s plan really was but now, everything was accelerating. She couldn’t say she was sad about it.

It was the reason why they were in a flat, in London. It was the second time Vinda went there and she was not really seduced by the city. Question of principle.

“Don’t forget, you reach your spot and you do your job and then you come back to Nurmengard. I hope all of you have thought about your most pyrotechnic or just most showy spell.”

They all nodded and took their wand in hand.

“Well, now, it’s time to shine.”

And on these words, they disappeared from the small room.

 

Vinda appeared in the middle of the street. And cars were coming in her direction at an alarming rate. She didn’t waste time. She pointed her wand in their direction and yelled:

“ _Fiendfyre_!”

An enormous rooster in fire came from her wand and just destroyed the annoying Muggle means of transport. Oh god, she loved this spell but really, the form it took between her hands was ridiculous. And then the screaming began. But it was too late: the dark charm had already begun to wreck everything on its way.

It was big enough to alert the Ministry quickly. A unique auror came up a few steps away from her. He seemed young. He was probably one of the few who had escaped from Dumbledore’s slaughter. Or maybe, he was on a mission and had been called back because of the sudden staff reduction.

It was a pity, really.

“ _Avadra Kadavra._ ”

Before he could have done anything, the auror fell on the floor, dead. Chaos was everywhere in the street. The Muggles were swarming, screaming. They were fleeing their own city. Finally, they had understood their rightful place. It was about time. Vinda continued to watch her Fiendfyre for another couple of minutes. It was destroying everything on this path. It was beautiful. Yet, like everything, it had to end.

“ _Finite Incantatem_.” She shouted.

It took a few seconds, but the fantastic beast disintegrated itself into smoke and ashes. It didn’t prevent the fires to continue their destructive work. Vinda smiled. It was really an amazing day.

∞

“Let’s drink to your new potion, my dear! And to our latest progress in the defeat of the Statue of Secrecy!”

Dumbledore took the glass in his hand. He took a sip and recognised the taste of the alcohol. Fire Whiskey. Typical of Gellert. Because he couldn’t drink alcohol but didn’t want to admit it to his guests, he was always offering this. It was transparent and clear: it looked like water, exactly what he was putting in his own glass.

“Still using this trick, Gel’? What an old fox you make…” Albus laughed.

“Do you really want me to be useless tomorrow? Did you forget how I am when I have migraines?”

“Even if I wished to, I wouldn’t be able to. You whining and complaining about how you are going to die is truly a spectacle. Vinda was so brave to take care of you, all these years. If she wasn’t that evil, you could believe she was an angel.”

“You say that because you don’t know what it is.”

“I do have some.”

“ _No, you don’t_! You have headaches! That’s not the same thing!”

“Ah! You have to suffer to be a great Seer.”

They had important things to discuss, even it was rather festive compared to the usual. That is why Albus changed the topic of the discussion. He had studied some possibilities about the documents Gellert gave him and even if it was really interesting, he didn’t think he could come up with a solution – especially in a so short time. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t work on it, but for now, it was out of question.

“I hope you didn’t plan for me to resolve the incompatibility between magic and Muggle new technologies in a few days, right?”

“Of course not. I’m simply putting the idea on the table. It could be an advantage over the long term.”

“To be honest, I’m rather surprised to see that you think we can take anything good from the Muggles.”

“Believe it or not, I discussed with our friend the Prime Minister and he seems to believe so much in their technologies – I mean, did you ever think about the potential of what they call television before – that I thought it could be a good idea to use it.”

“Hum… I can’t say I disagree. And the documents you gave me are of interest. Do you think we could convince the ones who wrote them to work with us? I’m not sure they are particularly pro-Greater Good, if you know what I mean…”

“Most of them? I don’t think so: they are so caught up in their Ministry’s lies that they wouldn’t just listen to us. But some of them could be interesting in the possibility of being able to work without limits on their idea. Especially with a brilliant mind like yours.”

“Even with what was said about me in the Daily Prophet?”

“Even if they thought it true – which would surprise me because it must take a certain amount of stupidity to believe in what Skeeter says anyway – it wouldn’t change the fact that for some, intellectual works are more important than anything.”

Albus looked at him with perplexity in his blue eyes. He took another swallow of his drink. It burnt a little his throat: he wasn’t that much used to this. Even when he went to Hogsmeade with his co-worker the week-end, he always chose a tea or – at a push, a butterbeer.

“I’m not sure what it says about them…”

Suddenly, they both heard the noise of a beak against the window pane. A huge ginger owl was waiting outside. Gellert stood up from the sofa and went to meet it. The moment it was opened, it perched on his shoulder. It rubbed its head against his cheek.

“Yes, Renart, I’m happy to see you too…” He said in German to the animal.

The owl produced a cry and when the dark wizard took the letter it was caring, it went to perch which has been placed near his desk.

Albus stayed where he was siting while his partner was reading the note, but he couldn’t help himself to ask, intrigued:

“What does it say?”

A thin satisfied smile appeared on Gellert’s face. It was about time, now, before the serious business would begin and he was excited about it. Really.

“Hum… we have the date for the coming press conference. It will obviously concern the latest chocking events. And it will be broadcast on every television in Great Britain. What a chance, right? We should prepare the Prime Minister to play his role perfectly, shouldn’t we?”

∞

Scarlett Skeeter was living in a beautiful little house in the British countryside, near London. She was a famous journalist, she could afford it. Aged of 25 years old, she was sure that she had proved to her parents that she could take care of herself alone. Even if they said to her two weeks ago that writing her now famous article was a deadly mistake. She disagreed with them: it was the best opportunity career she could have hoped. If her other colleagues were too scared to do it, it wasn’t her fault.

Attacking like this Dumbledore and Grindelwald was maybe dangerous, but now she wouldn’t drop the goose that laid the golden egg. She was richer than before and, in the Ministry’s good graces: she had won everything, really. And it was also the reason why she now planning to write a book about the good professor. She hadn’t found a lot about him – his life was quite a mystery except for his public on – but it wasn’t a problem: the readers wanted something extraordinary, scandalous. If she grew some sordid details, who would care? She didn’t like him when he was in Hogwarts, so she had absolutely no qualms to do this.

And she had already thought of a title: _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_.

“Is that you, Nigel?” She called when she heard some noises coming from her entrance hall.

The Daily Prophet had given her a bodyguard. It gave an impact even bigger on the article: what she had “found” was truly incredible. However, there was a few seconds of silence and she couldn’t help to be a little frightened: what if it was Dumbledore coming here to kill her? But of course, it wasn’t. Indeed, she heard Nigel answering:

“Yes, it’s me, ma’am! Do you need me do look for something?”

She might have slapped herself for being so paranoiac. It was everyone around that was making her become like this. It was nine o’clock in the morning and she was still in her living room, correcting some of her rough draft of article about the events that happened lately in London. She was convinced – as almost everyone – that Grindelwald’s followers were at the origin of this. Especially when a woman who suspiciously looked like Vinda Rosier – the dark wizard’s lieutenant – had been seen throwing a Fiendfyre on some cars.

It had been a huge affair in the wizarding world _and_ in the Muggle world: because of the extent of the incident, they just couldn’t erase everyone memories. So now, they had to count of the British Prime Minister intervention to convince everyone they had just misunderstood what they had seen.

“Ma’am, do you want some lemon cakes?” Nigel asked while coming into the living room.

He was holding a rectangular metal box with stylised drawings. It appeared so small between his huge hands. Scarlett wasn’t sure she wanted to something made by him. He didn’t seem very hygienic, in her opinion.

“You made them yourself? I didn’t know you baked.”

To be honest, she didn’t know a lot about him – and wasn’t really interested in more. She had more important matters in head. But maybe, he had some talents? Nigel opened the box to show her the little cakes.

“Oh, it’s a recipe from my family-in-law but it’s a friend who made them. She is more talented than me when it comes to this and she couldn’t accept to stay silent when I put them in the oven and there was some batter on the baking tin.”

“Ah! I see…”

Scarlett had a little laugh and stood up. She took the box full of cakes and put it on the table. She had an idea.

“Do you want to drink something? I’m not going out today. I want to watch the Prime Minister speech. I’m sure it’s going to add something to my next article.”

She had a television since she had understood the power of this new Muggle technology. It was a way to inform the population, and thus to manipulate it. It would be for the best when someone would resolve the incompatibility between magic and technology.

“Yes, it would be a pleasure.” Nigel answered.

Scarlett frowned for an instant. It was the first time he had spoken to her like this. Usually, he was way ruder. Was there a possibility that he was… No, shouldn’t begin to think like this. There was absolutely no risk he would be an undercover agent. He had been chosen by the Daily Prophet and approved by the Ministry. However, she wasn’t stupid. She had her wand in her sleeve, just in case.

 

Fortunately, the tea was reading just before the beginning of the speech. Scarlett invited Nigel to sit down on the sofa. She had found him lurking around the television. He seemed really interested in it. It wasn’t an object which was that usual in wizard families, so she wasn’t that surprised.

“You have never watched a television, right? You don’t have this at home? You should try, it’s entertaining.”

“Where I live… I think it would be complicate to establish something like this. But, maybe, it’s worth trying.”

She switched on the machine and after a few second, a carboard appeared on screen. It said: _Wait a minute or the broadcast, our technicians are working on it_.

“Do you want me to serve you a cup of tea?” Nigel proposed, while already taking in hand the teapot and a teacup.

“Yes please.” She answered when she was searching her writing material.

“Do you some milk? Sugar cubes? Cream?”

“Nothing, thank you. I prefer it plain.”

“Ah! You prefer it healthier than me! I can’t help myself to put way too much sugar. I know it’s not right but… I have a sweet tooth. It’s terrible.”

And then, the live transmission began. Scarlett Skeeter had her quill in hand. Nigel had a honeyed smile on his face.

 “ _My fellow compatriots, I am happy to speak to you today. I’m happy because it’s going to be the end of an era of lies. Lies which run through centuries and oppress a part of the population you don’t even suspect. Until the latest events._

_I know what you think I’m going to say “it’s an accident, it’s some gas pipes which exploded” or something. But the witnesses would know it’s nothing but a lie. And I couldn’t bear the responsibility of having some fellow thinking they are insane. Because my dear, you are not._

_Everything you saw was real. The people responsible of the event were wizards. Yes, I understand that some of you will never believe it. However, you must know that closing your eyes will not be a solution forever. Because they are here. The wizarding community exists, and it has come to a breaking point. It’s now a question of time before it reveals itself to the rest of the world. And it is our duty to support them. We have oppressed them – without even knowing it – for too long._

_Finally, I want to address a message to all the British wizards. Don’t be afraid. You don’t have to be. Muggles and wizards are different, it’s true. But it doesn’t mean you have to hide. You should be proud of yourself. You have a gift. Don’t waste yourself in the shadow. Walk in the plain light. You deserve it. And never let anybody tell you otherwise._ ”

Scarlett was speechless. And everyone in the audience seemed the same. It was the moment when another carboard appeared on screen. It was written on it: _Our broadcast is momentarily interrupted – Sorry for the inconvenience_. It was probably the Ministry who had taken care of this.

“Isn’t it nice?“ Nigel remarked while taking a sip of his tea.

“What?” The journalist articulated.

She turned slowly to contemplate the smug expression of the man. He didn’t seem the slightest surprised by what had happened. Each of Skeeter’s alarms switched on in her head. She froze, half of the lemon cake still in her mouth. At this moment, it tasted like ashes.

“I mean, if the Muggles began to read Wizard newspapers, you’ll gain more popularity, right? Everything will be fine at the end. Not that I’m really worried about it.”

“Are you against the Status of Secrecy, Nigel? Are you one of Grindelwald’s sympathiser?”

She hadn’t thought twice about it and had drawn her wand from her sleeve. His bodyguard didn’t seem impressed. He continued to drink, even if his tea should be cold. Now Scarlett, especially since Nigel only answer had been a widened smile, was scared. And something tilted in head. A shiver ran along her spine. She needed to confirm that the person in front of her wasn’t the one she thought.

“ _Revelio_.” She murmured with a tense voice.

The following second, she was in front of a middle-aged man with braided long red hair and piercing blue eyes. He was looking at her like a bird of prey. He was the predator in this room, and he knew it. She was _fucked_. That is why she chose to be at least a little careful:

“Professor Dumbledore.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh? Now that you know you are going to die, Miss Skeeter, you are respectful? Was it that difficult to be decent before?”

“I had every right to make an article about you, especially after what you have done… Fucking the darkest wizard of this age… I didn’t think you were that scandalous.”

“And to imply that I was abusing children?”

“People draw the conclusions they want, you know…”

“Do you think I’m stupid? I remember you from Hogwarts. A Ra              venclaw, weren’t you? You were deceitful, but you weren’t that brilliant… You were one within the masses. I would never have thought you would be the one who would give me a serious blow.”

“And I’m proud of it.”

If she was to be killed, she wouldn’t leave this world without trying anything. She was a confident witch and it wasn’t this outlaw who would stop her carrier. She wouldn’t allow it.

“ _Stupefix_!” She shouted, while having a metallic taste in her mouth.

Unfortunately, the former professor had already drew his wand and hers flew against the wall.

“Nice try. But I don’t have time for this. As usual, my schedule is rather filled.”

“So, I shall not keep you any longer…” She interrupted herself when she felt something flowing from her nose. “What… what is this?”

“ _Purpurissum ultimae morientis angustiae_.”

“Excuse me?” She repeated while feeling a burn in her limbs.

It happened so suddenly that her brain didn’t register the pain first. Near her, Dumbledore seemed perfectly fine, except that he had now taken her quill in his hand. He was looking at her rather expectantly. As if he was studying a very interesting case.

“It’s the name of the potion I gave you.”

She looked at the lemon cakes that were innocently positioned on a plate. He must have followed her gaze and what he understood from it didn’t appear to please him.

“Do you really think that I would put my new experiment in some delicious lemon cakes? Who do you think I am? I put it in your tea, which is tasteless by the way.”

Scarlett tried to move but she just managed to fall from her seat. Blood began to flood from her hears and her nose. Her nerves seemed in fire. What was happening? Dumbledore gave her some poison. Of course, he had. He had come to kill her because she had slandered him. Her parents had been right from the start, what a pity.

“I didn’t think it made that much time to have an impact on your organism. I know it’s not really serious, but I just made test on rats before. You are the first wizard to drink it. So, if you could explain to me what you feel, it would be useful. Because you know, I wonder if you are going to die from lack of blood or from the neurological degeneration…” Dumbledore continued, very curious.

But the witch was in a pain way to huge to even formulate a thought or move her little finger. Her world was pain and it didn’t seem to have an end. She wanted to die. Was there someone with mercy who could put an end to her suffering?

 “Ah… Yes, I imagine that it’s too much to ask. And you are staining your carpet. Really, Miss Skeeter, as the rest of your world, you would have been a disappointment until the end.”

**Author's Note:**

> PS : You can find me on Tumblr under the same pseudo (Phytine)


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